Obsidian
by Queen of the Seas
Summary: Promises made, hope felt, futures established and love found but always, the obsidian darkness remained. Bruce Wayne & Harleen Quinzel
1. Act o1: Denial

**A/N:** Soo, I randomly got this idea in the middle of the night. The story of Bruce Wayne and Harleen Quinzel told in five one-shots.  
>So, without further ado I present to you: <em>Obsidian - A Tragedy in Five Acts<em>

She was beautiful, no matter how much he wanted to deny it to himself and her beauty was evident even as she sat here in the interrogation room, glaring him down from across the metal table. Her grease paint was smeared all over her lovely face reminding him on some kind of macabre master piece and her egg white dress, even though it was splattered with blood looked absolutely stunning on her.

Beautiful.

"Are you going to interrogate me or are we just going to continue with this little stare down?" she snapped, crossing her slender arms over her chest and raising an expectant brow.

Batman shook his head lightly to refocus his thoughts – this was the infamous Harley Quinn he was speaking to here, a murderess, serial arsonist and a madwoman. There was nothing beautiful about her, absolutely nothing; at least he had to try to convince himself of that.

"Where is he, Harleen?" Batman snarled at her.

"The clown? I don't know," the blond shrugged before leaning forward, madness smoldering behind her azure orbs. "But if you find him, send his painted ass to me; I've got a present for that mother fucker."

So the rumors were true, Harleen _was _out to kill the Joker.

"What happened between you two?" he asked "What did he do to you?"

If Harleen hadn't scowling before, she sure as hell was now. Though Batman wasn't easily frightened, he couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy with the terrifying look on Harleen's face. For a moment, it looked as though she were going to tackle him and he braced him but instead, after a few moments of glaring deep into his dark eyes, she leaned back and looked away.

"That's no one's concern but mine and his. He knows what he did and he knows that he deserves to die for it," she spat. "That's all I'll say to you, Gordon or any other idiot that wants to know."

Batman almost wanted to smile, despite her brash words, fowl language and snarky remarks, there was something almost charming about her that he couldn't quite shake.

_Goddamit, Bruce! Knock it off, she's a convicted killer not some beauty queen. Get your head back in the game and get the fuck out of here!_

Batman stood and moved towards the door, speaking as he walked. "I have a friend who will help you, Harleen. Both in Arkham and out."

"What if I don't want you or your friend's help?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"You do otherwise you would have attacked me when you slipped out of your handcuffs 3 minutes ago."

Harleen glanced at her freed hands that she'd been trying to conceal under the small table and then back at the Batman. Damn him.

Taking her silence as his queue to leave, Bruce opened the door but stopped short when she called out to him.

"Why are you doing this?"

"You're different, I can see it."

Then he was gone.


	2. Act o2: Anger

"I told you, I'm not some fucking charity case!" Harleen shouted for the hundredth time that night. She'd spent nearly a year in Arkham Asylum and finally after completing treatment she was released into the custody of Bruce Anthony Wayne – she was not as one would say 'a happy camper'

Bruce sighed and rubbed his temples; the last thing he felt like dealing with was a shrieking ex-convict stomping around the Manor. "Harleen, I told you. I don't see you as a charity case, I just want to help you." He replied calmly.

"Why?" she demanded, glaring up at the taller man. "What's in it for you?" Harleen had never had anyone do something like this for her without there being some catch, some pain that they were trying to inflict upon her and frankly, she was scared. She refused to let her guard down, even for someone as handsome and seemingly sweet as Bruce. The sweet ones usually ended up being the cruelest.

"Nothing, Harleen. I just want to help you and see you get back on your feet."

"I wanna know fuckin' why!" She screamed at the top of her lungs and without warning she grabbed a obsidian colored, vase that had been on display and hurled it to the ground. She was acting like a child and Bruce didn't even flinch, he could remember doing the same thing the night his parents died and he knew exactly what part of this tantrum was coming next.

"Take me back to Arkham, let me live on the streets, I don't wanna be here!"

"I can't let you do that,"

"Fuck you! Why not?" she screamed, sending another vase smashing to the marble floor. "Why not, huh? I'm just like the rest of them, I'm just like _him_!"

"We both know that you're not." He spoke calmly, slowing making his way towards her, stepping over the shards of porcelain and glass until he was only a foot or so from her. "If you were like any of the others you wouldn't have completed treatment, you wouldn't have been released from Arkham. You can change, you have changed. You don't have to act like this anymore, Harleen, nothing bad is gonna happen to you. So you can drop the whole tough girl act, you're going to be okay now."

The blonde looked up at Bruce, her bottom lip quivering and her resolve came crumbling down right in front of him. Tears that Harleen never allowed herself to shed in front of anyone poured down her cheeks, her hands covered her face to save herself what small amount of dignity she could. Bruce, not wanting to be too forward settled with wrapping a secure arm around her shoulders and to his surprise, she buried her face against his shoulder.

He realized now that the old saying really was true; you liked someone when you knew what made them laugh but you could never truly loved them until you saw what made them cry.


	3. Act o3: Bargaining

He was wonderful, possibly the most wonderful man in the entire world and he was all hers. Harleen had surprised not only Bruce but herself with how well she adjusted to life at the Manor. She'd insisted on getting job since she would had died from boredom if she stayed home all day and Bruce had found one for her (much to her disdain) at Wayne Enterprises as a secretary. She worked most days and Bruce 'worked' nights so they didn't get the to see a lot of each other but when they did have the time, they were practically inseparable.

It had been early in the morning before even the sun had risen and Harleen had been in her room painting her toenails black, a perfect shade of obsidian when Bruce had knocked so lightly on her door that she almost hadn't heard him.

"What are you doing up so early, your meds still making you restless?"

The blonde smiled softly and nodded as she capped her nail polish. She noted that Bruce was already wearing a suit for the day; well, knowing the long hours he worked it was probably the same suit from this evening. "What's up?"

"I need to talk to you, come out on the balcony with me?"

"Of course!" Carefully, Harleen bounced off of the bed and waddled after Bruce (she didn't want to ruin all the hard work she'd put into her toe nails.) He chuckled at her antics; Harleen could always make him laugh.

Once they were out on the balcony, they both took seats on the large bench beside on another, staring up at the pale sky. Neither of them spoke for a few moments before Bruce broke the silence.

"I need to tell you something, Harleen and you need to promise me that you will not get angry with me,"

"Uhm, okay, what is it?"

"I would have told you sooner, honestly but this isn't the kind of secret you go around telling everyone."

"Alright, so what is it?"

"I mean, it's not that I don't trust you, I do. With my life and-"

"Bruce, just spit it out!"

"I'm Batman."

Bruce watched Harleen carefully, hopefully as he tried to decipher her body language. She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward slightly as she looked at him. He wasn't sure what that meant and panic began to flow through his veins until she smiled at him and returned her gaze to the pale sky. "I knew it." She breathed.

"You knew?"

"Not really. I just kind of felt it, I think I felt it my first night here. I guess I was just waiting for you to say it."

Silence.

"So what now?"

"I want you, Harleen."

"What?"

"I want to be with you, but I need to know that this won't change anything between us."

"It won't," the blond replied before gently sliding onto his lap. "How about I make you a deal? If you promise to come home to me in one piece every night, then I promise to be here waiting for you every night. Deal?"

Bruce didn't even have to think twice "Deal."


	4. Act o4: Depression

"What's wrong, Harleen? Talk to me."

They'd been engaged for four months now and Bruce couldn't have been happier if he tried and Harleen had been just as happy at first but in the past few weeks, she was becoming more and more distant with him. He, himself was naturally aloof but he was closer with her than he'd ever been with anyone, even Rachel and now as he laid beside her in bed, he couldn't help but feel miles away. He was beginning to think that it had something to do with the fact that the Joker had recently been captured (by no one other than himself, of course.) and instead of sending him to Blackgate and giving him the needle, he was once again being sent to Arkham.

She rolled over to flash him a half hearted smile "Nothing, babe. I'm okay, just tired."

Liar.

He gently placed his thumb and index finger under her chin and lightly lifted so that he could meet her eyes. "Please, just tell me what's wrong."

The blond sighed and brushed her blonde waves back out of her face. "I love you, Bruce, you know that I do and that I want to marry you more than anything else in the world," she said, gesturing to the beautiful obsidian and scarlet diamonds of the engagement ring she wore.

"But?"

"But before I can do any of that, I have to do something."

"What?"

She paused "It's hard to explain but just know that I have to do this alone."

Bruce didn't like the sound of this, at all. What could she have to do that she couldn't tell him about? Was there another man that she needed to visit one more time before they got married or maybe she was getting cold feet? Harleen watched her fiancé's facial expressions in the fading light with complete and utter amusement; he was going into 'over analyzing, detective Batman mode' again, she could tell just by the look on his face.

Smiling, the blonde rolled herself over until she was laying on top of Bruce, she pressed her lips softly against his, biting lightly on his lower lip before pulling away. "Listen, I'm only going to need a few days to get this all sorted out and then," she began kissing down his muscular body, starting with his neck. She spoke in between her tiny kisses "When I get back, we're going to pick a church to get married at, find the best wedding planner in this whole city and then you're going to help me pick out the most amazing, breath taking dress that money can buy. After all that, we're going to come home and have the most amazing pre-marital sex ever –m'kay?"

It was hard to think with her showering him in kisses and speaking about physical intimacy, he wanted to grab her and just pin her to the bed. "Only a few days?" he asked once more.

"Three at the most." She assured him, looking up from her delicate ministrations.

"Okay."

Smiling softly, Harleen rolled off of him and slid off the bed. She then began getting dressing, pulling on the clothes that had been thrown so carelessly on the floor.

"You cheated!" Bruce accused, tossing a pillow her way and purposely missing.

She turned back and flashed him a smile that was half amusement and half of another emotion Bruce couldn't quite place but wasn't quite sure he liked and said;

"All's fair in love and war."


	5. Act o5: Acceptance

Bruce never saw Harleen again after that night, at least not alive.

She had somehow managed to infiltrate Gordon's men and disguised herself as a police officer, one of the officers who happened to be responsible for keeping the Joker safe as he was transferred from the GCPD to Arkham Asylum. He imagined that she wanted to do it quick, get it over with, no theatrics just a death and then the rest of a life time. Yet the Joker was a crafty man, he must have somehow found out what the blond had planned on doing and brought in one of his own men to be disguised as a police officer and when Harleen had raised the gun to that greasy bastard's head, she'd gotten three popped right into her own.

The Joker escaped.

Bruce hadn't realized that it was her as the body had been dragged away until he'd caught a glimpse of her hand, the hand that still bore the engagement ring he'd gotten her. He'd said nothing since he'd been dressed as the Bat at the time but after that moment; he could hardly remember the rest of the night.

That had been nearly a week ago and all the days and nights since had been nothing but a hazy blur. Now, here he sat in what used to be their room, glued to a chair, remembering a woman that he would never see again. The final time she'd been caught by the police, the first night he brought her back to the Manor, the morning he'd told her about his true identity and the last time he'd ever laid in bed with her.

He'd spent nearly every day since Harleen's death sitting in this room and staring out into the night, imagining that she would burst through the doors and tell him that it was just a joke, the Joker (whom was notorious for faking his own deaths) had been somewhat of a mentor and maybe, just maybe she would have learned something from him.

But deep within his heart Bruce knew that this wasn't the case, he'd lost her to the obsidian darkness, the black cloud that had been following him around since he was a child; he'd lost his parents to it, then Rachel, Harvey and now Harleen. Sometimes he wished that it would take him too, fuck this city. There was no one good left to save, they were all dead and that was always where they ended up. Dead.

"Master Bruce?" Alfred asked softly as he cracked the door and peered inside.

"What, Alfred?"

"Perhaps tonight may be the night that Ms. Quinzel returns and I doubt the last thing she wants to return to is a smelly young man. A shower perhaps?" he suggested hopefully. Alfred had heard somewhere that when a loved one was grieving, the best thing to do was to play along until they returned to their senses once more.

"No, " Bruce shook his head, not even bothering to look back at his father figure. He could feel unshed tears pooling in his verdant orbs as he spoke the words he'd refuse to admit to even himself. "She's not coming back, Alfred. Harleen is dead. "

And in a way, so was Bruce Wayne.

A/N: Soo yeah, that's all she wrote! Review, please? Anything you loved or hated, I would love to know!


End file.
